


Endless Wonder

by thingswithwings



Category: Babylon 5, Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Carlos watched a lot of Star Trek growing up, Cecil's Fashion Sense, Crossover, Food, G'Kar's fashion sense, Gen, M/M, Nail Polish, Spacetime travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-07
Updated: 2013-10-07
Packaged: 2017-12-28 17:33:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/994655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thingswithwings/pseuds/thingswithwings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Carlos invented a spacetime machine and took off into the wild, unexplored territory of the future, this isn't quite what he was hoping for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Endless Wonder

**Author's Note:**

> This is pretty silly, ngl. But once I thought about G'Kar and Cecil being bros I couldn't get over it. Thanks to eruthros for giving me the idea in the first place, as well as at least one of the best lines. :) 
> 
> This is set fairly early in B5 continuity, probably around episode mumbletemumble. No spoilers for B5, and I think it'll work fine if you haven't seen the show.

When Carlos invented a spacetime machine and took off into the wild, unexplored territory of the future, this isn't quite what he was hoping for.

"And the gauntlets!" Cecil is saying. "They match your boots, oh my god, how did I not notice that at first? So elegant!"

The kangaroo-lizard alien looks pleased. "So few humans do, though I can't think why! Do you know, until this day I had simply believed that all humans lacked fashion sense. That it was a gift given to some of the interstellar races but not to all, like the ability to breathe argon. But now, looking at your lovely ensemble, I see that it has simply been bred out of you over time!"

Cecil preens. He's wearing a poncho, a miniskirt, uggs, and a turtleneck. "I thought this would be _just the thing_ to wear into the future." 

Carlos loves him a lot, so much so that he's had trouble measuring it on the affection-meter he designed when he was twelve and that's served him so well ever since. But he really doesn't want to be stuck here discussing alien fashion.

"Pardon me, Mr G'Kar – " Carlos begins.

"Ambassador," G'Kar corrects him.

"Ambassador G'Kar," Carlos agrees. "Do you know where they keep the science on this station?"

G'Kar seems confused by the question. "Do you mean – scientists? Or technology?"

"Sure," Carlos says. They've been on a _space station_ in _space_ in the _future_ for an hour now, and he hasn't learned anything about what science has accomplished in that time. He wants to figure out what's powering the station, how they travel faster than light, and above all he wants to talk to a scientist.

If he's honest with himself, he wants to talk to the real-life Geordi LaForge; they must be around here somewhere.

"Well, I suppose you could speak with Commander Ivanova," G'Kar suggests. "She might know of someone."

"Carlos," Cecil says, a happy trill in his voice, "do you mind if I stay with Ambassador G'Kar while you go looking for science? He says there's a marketplace that we could go to, and he's even willing to treat me!" 

"It's the least I can do for our visitors from the past!" G'Kar pronounces. "Though I'm sorry that I cannot take you to Narn for a true fashion experience. The marketplace in G'Khamazad is famed throughout the galaxy."

Cecil looks mournful, and glances over at Carlos.

"No," Carlos says quellingly. "You know we only have a few hours before the spacetime machine takes us back."

" _Space_ time machine?" G'Kar asks.

"You can't have time travel without space travel," Carlos explains.

"Ah," G'Kar agrees. Then he looks back at Cecil again. "Have you ever considered wearing a cape?"

"I'd be lying if I said I _hadn't_ considered it," Cecil replies, clearly overjoyed by the prospect. "Carlos, do you think I could pull off a cape?"

"I think you look lovely in everything," Carlos says honestly, and kisses him. "But now I have to go and find some science."

*

Commander Ivanova is not as helpful as Carlos hoped she would be; she just shakes her head and rubs her temples and asks the ceiling why she gets all the crackpot stuff. Carlos could not favorably compare her to Spock or Captain Janeway. She does, however, pass him off to someone called Corwin, who can at least field a lot of his basic questions.

"So – it's just – nuclear?" Carlos asks, confused. According to the spacetime machine they were over two centuries in the future. "We haven't invented cold fusion yet?"

"No, sir," Corwin says, clearly offering the _sir_ only out of habit and good training. Carlos is wearing his best formal labcoat, but either these people have never seen a scientist before or labcoats have fallen out of fashion. 

"What about the artificial gravity?" 

Corwin obediently pulls up a diagram of the station.

"Rotation?" Carlos groans. "Like in _2001_?"

Corwin blinks at him. "I believe this model of rotational gravity was first put into practice in 2185," he says slowly. Carlos sighs.

"Okay, but there's faster than light travel, right? How was that developed?"

"Oh, we bought that from the Centauri," Corwin says brightly. "For diamonds."

Carlos stares at the diagram on the screen for a long time, depressed.

"So, uh, you're the guy who says he built a time machine, right?" Corwin asks, after the silence has stretched out for a while.

"Spacetime machine," Carlos corrects. "You can't have time travel without space travel." 

"Oh," Corwin says. "Of course." He licks his lips. "So, what was the past like?"

Carlos looks around at the people in the Command Center. They're pressing buttons on consoles, talking over radios, and Carlos is pretty sure he saw one of them _print something out on paper_. They don't even use immersive holographic computers or cybernetic bioware implants or anything.

"It was just like this," Carlos says.

*

Their medical doctor is at least a researcher, and he _does_ have a few things bubbling in tubes and erlenmeyer flasks, but by now Carlos has learned to be wary.

"So, you do xenobiology?" Carlos asks. Doctor Franklin nods.

"I've made a comparative study of every alien physiological system we know of. It's quite fascinating."

He seems enthusiastic, so Carlos smiles. "How so?"

"Well," Doctor Franklin says, "for instance, the Centauri have two hearts."

Carlos sighs, because Michael Sandero back home has two hearts.

"And they have tentacles?" Doctor Franklin offers, perhaps sensing Carlos's mounting frustration.

"So does my boyfriend," Carlos mutters. Then, louder, he asks, "and all these big impressive machines, what do they do?"

Doctor Franklin shrugs. "Imaging, mostly. Sterilization. That one's for making soup."

Carlos feels a sudden wave of despair, and Doctor Franklin at least has things bubbling in tubes and is wearing something that looks like it might've descended from a labcoat, so Carlos blurts it out.

"This – this isn't what I was hoping for when I became a spacetime traveller," he says. At Doctor Franklin's questioning eyebrow, he adds, "you can't have time travel without space travel."

"That isn't what I was going to ask," Doctor Franklin replies kindly. "I was going to ask, what were you expecting?"

"I don't know," Carlos says. "Wonder, maybe. Something – you know." He's embarrassed, but for god's sake one of the aliens invited him to watch a diplomatic council meeting. "Magical. A new world." 

Doctor Franklin pats him hesitantly on the shoulder. "Do you want a lollipop?" he asks.

Carlos doesn't take a lollipop.

*

When he meets up with Cecil again, some place called the Zocalo, Cecil is indeed wearing a sparkly purple cape over his turtleneck and miniskirt. G'Kar is wearing Cecil's poncho.

"Carlos!" Cecil exclaims, running over to kiss him on the cheek. "How was your day? Did you find some science?"

"No," Carlos grumbles. "They haven't even solved Riemann yet. Or poverty. I mean, I'd be content with at least one of the two, you know?"

Cecil nods sympathetically. He's a really good listener, Carlos reflects.

"You look great in your new cape, though," Carlos says, because Cecil does. He looks _dashing_ , like a superhero in the comic books Carlos used to read as a kid.

Cecil does a little spin, and the cape gives off sparkles and shocks into the air. "It's a living fabric," he explains, "it absorbs light and carbon dioxide from the environment to make the sparkles."

"It – it photosynthesizes?" Carlos asks, grabbing a piece of it between his fingers. It's warm, and more supple than any fabric Carlos has ever touched. 

"Fashion-forward and environmentally friendly," G'Kar says approvingly. "They give off oxygen. In the more industrial, polluted cities on my planet, we often wear these in order to carry a breath of fresh air around with us."

"Huh," Carlos says. 

Cecil takes his hand and pulls him into the bustling marketplace. There are people everywhere, humans and aliens, and now that Carlos looks he notices a flower stand where the flowers move on their own, and a table covered in weird electronic equipment, and a "watch your step!" sign written in several languages that Carlos has never seen before.

"You have to try this," Cecil says, and when Carlos looks back at him he's holding a tiny yellow fruit in his free hand, proffering it to Carlos. 

Leaning in, Carlos takes a bite, his lips brushing Cecil's fingers. 

It's like nothing he's ever tasted before: as he chews the texture changes in his mouth from soft to crunchy, crunchy to wet, and the flavor shifts too, from high notes to low, round notes to sharp, complimenting the textures in strange and interesting ways.

"It's from the Centauri home world," Cecil says. "Millions of miles from here. And still fresh."

"I must admit that the Centauri are good with food," G'Kar says. "Even if they do spoil their spoo terribly by aging it."

Carlos accepts the little fruit when Cecil hands it to him, and takes another bite.

"And you have to come and meet some of the new friends I've made," Cecil smiles, still tugging on Carlos's hand. "There's Mi'Ra, she's translating Earth literature into Narn, can you believe it? And Jamie, zie's an artist, and oh, Carlos, the things zie does with mixed media and electronic painting! Anyway, zie organizes the culture fair with hir friend Brayonn, _she's_ the Minbari sculptor who made this really famous piece, _Three Years_ , and I haven't met her yet but Jamie promised that I could before I left. And Kiron, of course, over at the bookstore, he knows absolutely everything about this Centauri sport, I forget what it's called – "

"Pomonto," G'Kar puts in. "I understand they find it quite challenging."

"Pomonto, right!" Cecil smiles. "There's a little Pomonto league here on the station, humans and Centauri and Minbari and Drazi all play, and I'm told that the competition is really heating up this year. I'm rooting for the Black Lace Doilies, myself, even though their name leaves something to be desired."

"It doesn't translate well," G'Kar agrees.

When Carlos finishes his fruit, he's left with a pit, not unlike the stone from an avocado, smooth and spherical and blue, like a tiny planet. As Cecil chatters away about religious services for technomages and the current grievances of the metalworkers' union, he wonders what would happen if he took it home, planted it in the soil in Night Vale and waited for it to grow.

"Anyway, we're all getting dinner soon – provided we have time on our spacetime machine clock?"

Smiling, Carlos lifts up his hand, the one still holding Cecil's hand, and bends his head to look at the watch on Cecil's wrist. Cecil's fingernails are sparkly purple too, to match his cape, though he's sure they were forest green when they left for the future. Carlos wonders how far nail polish technology has advanced in two centuries.

"We have plenty of time," he says. "I'd love to meet your friends."

"Good," Cecil sighs. "I didn't want to let down Bhavani, I promised her I'd brave some of the more alien things on the menu with her." He spares Carlos a soft smile. "You'll like her, she's a scientist here on the station. Or, well. A mechanic, I guess. She fixes things, like you do in Night Vale."

Carlos lifts their linked hands again, this time to press a kiss to Cecil's knuckles.

They enter the little restaurant together, and the smells are by turns enticing, and repellant, and . . . something else. Outside of his experience, Carlos supposes. Beyond his current knowledge of the world.

"I hope you don't mind, Mr. Scientist," G'Kar says solemnly, "but your bondmate has given me this poncho. I objected to such an intimate gift, of course, but he insisted that you would not take offence."

"It's fine by me," Carlos says. "It looks good on you. And I'm glad you took the time to show Cecil around."

"Well," G'Kar replies, "what do we owe to the past, except companionship? And what can the past give us, except understanding?"

Cecil squeezes Carlos's hand. Carlos squeezes back. They sit down next to each other at the table, in a restaurant in the middle of the universe. 

"This is a pretty good twenty-ninth date," Cecil whispers to him, as the alien wait staff provide them with menus. "Thank you for taking me to the future."

Carlos smiles, loving him so much that he's going to have to rescale his entire affection-meter. 

"Thank you for coming with me," he says.


End file.
